Luca.
Eyes closed, head against the pillow, connected to all sorts of bags and tubes. I couldn’t get there fast enough.
“Cristian, you’re alive!” said his mother.
So was Luca. The enormity of it all surged through me and a rush of tears began to flow. Brave Luca, who jumped up to grab me, who risked his life to save mine.
I swiped at my tears. “Will he be okay?” I asked.
“He lost a lot of blood. The doctor says the next twenty-four hours will be critical.”
I moved toward Luca and my eyes pulled to the pad of bandages on his left shoulder. Layers of gauze created a bulky knob. And then I realized that the branch—his arm—it was missing. I stepped closer and his father pulled me aside.
“He doesn’t know yet. He’s sedated. At this point, we just want him to pull through.”
I nodded slowly.
It was my fault. Luca jumped up to reach for me, to save me. Because of that, he’d lost his arm. He’d lost his path to medicine. And now he could lose his life. Families and so much destroyed. What was the cost of freedom?
“Cristian, the girls are alone. Could you go to the apartment and stay with them until one of us comes home?”
I looked at them. I couldn’t. No. I needed to help Liliana. “My sister was here. Maybe she could—”
“No,” said his mother quickly. “We’d prefer if it was you. The girls know you. Please, just until we get home.”
“But . . . my friends . . .”
“Please, Cristian. This will help us. This will help Luca.”
I nodded blankly. We were amidst a revolution, my friends needed help. The Secu was probably looking for me. And suddenly I felt so sleepy and woozy. Would Cici help Liliana? But if Cici went to Aaron Florian, would that create a trail of breadcrumbs—straight back to me?
77
?APTEZECI ?I ?APTE
The electricity was on. Revolutionaries had taken over the radio and television. I lay on the floor of Luca’s apartment, my head on a pillow, my ear to the TV. My body quickly sank, heavier and heavier. Exhaustion reached through the seam of revolution and finally pulled me into sleep.
“Cristian. Cristian, would you like to lie on the sofa?”
I opened my eyes. Luca’s mother was at my side.
“How long have I been sleeping?”
“A couple hours. But you need proper rest.”
“How is Luca?” I asked.
“He’s awake. He asked about you and I told him that you’re here.”
“I want to see him.” I shifted to sit up, but pain pinned me to the floor. Wrecked from adrenaline and injury, I could barely move.
“You need to go home and rest.”
I rolled over onto all fours and pushed myself off the floor. My head spun and everything hurt. I didn’t want to go home. I had to help Liliana.
“What’s happening? What are they reporting?” I asked.
“Ceau?escu hasn’t been seen. Ion Iliescu has taken over. There are rumors that terrorists have moved in to fight the citizens and the military. It’s very dangerous.”
I pulled myself up to a standing position.
“Are you okay to walk home?” she asked.
I nodded, lying. My legs were liquid.
I shuffled down the hallway, hugging the wall, and limped down one flight of stairs, making my way to Liliana’s apartment. I slumped against the doorframe and knocked.
The door opened a crack, and Alex’s face appeared.
“Liliana,” I whispered.
“We brought her home an hour ago.”
My shoulders sank with relief. “Is she okay?”
A beat of silence. “She’s sleeping.”
“But is she okay?”
“Are you okay? You look terrible.”
“I feel terrible. Even worse than I look.”
“I figured. I’ll help you home.”
Alex propped me up and walked with me. “Thanks for leaving us the note,” he said. “I heard about Luca.”
“It’s all my fault. He was trying to save me.”
“No. We’re all trying to save our country,” said Alex. “Every one of us. And if you haven’t noticed, the young people have been the bravest. No regrets in bravery.”
We exited his building onto the sidewalk. The Reporters whispered at their post, watching Alex help me across the street.
Electricity sizzled in the stairwell. “Elevator,” I muttered.
He walked me over. The doors rattled open and he turned to leave.
“Alex,” I said. “Have you been working with my sister?”